


as long as you're not scared

by neujjam



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Band, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:56:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12739584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neujjam/pseuds/neujjam
Summary: Sometimes, Taekwoon and Hakyeon spend nights alone on the tennis courts.





	as long as you're not scared

**Author's Note:**

> new format??

Taekwoon felt like his whole body was on fire, but he kept running. He ran back and forth on the field, one step in front of the other, gradually slowing down as his lungs struggled to keep up with the pace. The air was filled with his panting, slicing through the cold silence with each breath. He felt the desperation and hopelessness rise, coming out as a muffled sob as he fell to the ground. 

He clenched his jaw as he silenced a howl, each muscle in his leg vibrating with the sensation of endless pain. He clutched his knee helplessly, rocking back and forth, waiting for the stinging to subside. 

When it eventually lessened into a dull throbbing, Taekwoon stood up again, propping himself up against a tree. 

He stared down at his slim leg, cursing his bad fortune. He remembered the coach's face when he told him. He remembered getting the news, feeling like the weight of the word had fallen on his shoulders—no, on his leg. When the doctors had told him that he wasn't able to play soccer ever again, he had cried, yelled, wept, and eventually went into denial, locking himself away and going days without speaking a word. No, he had thought foolishly, this isn't happening to me. I can get better. This is just a mistake. 

But as the weeks went on and he was turned away day after day, told not to return to practices, his determination withered. Now, there was nothing else to do but watch in bitter jealousy as his former teammates went to practice, looking back only to give him a timid hello and a pitiful glance. 

 _Jung Taekwoon,_ they whispered,  _he must have done something bad in his past life. They say he'll never play soccer again._

Taekwoon felt the cold wind blow against his face, like little knives. He could endure the pain. He could endure the pain for a thousand years if only he was able to play again. If only he could feel the satisfaction of successfully stealing a ball, or scoring a goal, or gloating when scouts would ask him for his name. But now, how ironic! Now his teammates gloated! Now his teammates whispered among themselves,  _Jung Taekwoon, he deserved what came to him. He shouldn't have been such a show off._

Sighing to himself, and closing his eyes, Taekwoon crouched down and buried his face in his arms. 

Who was he before this? Once a famed soccer player with a bright future, now empty and thrown out without a second's hesitation. How could he bounce back from this? 

Someone cleared their throat hesitantly, almost timidly.

Surprised, thinking that he had been alone, Taekwoon fell back against the tree and his hands moved to his pocket, clutching onto his phone. But once he saw who it was, his grip loosened, and his shoulders slumped. 

"Long time no see," said Hakyeon, holding out a bottle of water. 

* * *

 

_August 2014_

"Looks like you have a fan club," one of his teammates elbowed his rib and jerked his chin toward the crowd, where a dark-skinned boy and several other girls were cheering, holding up signs with his name on it. 

He took a moment to read each sign, which were just a variety of  _Jung Taekwoon I love you!_ and  _Jung Taekwoon hwaiting!_ He blushed, turning away so they wouldn't see his pink cheeks. Of course he had seen his groupies before, it was impossible not to notice them when they followed him around, sometimes as far as walking home with him. He was still shy about it, though he had told them multiple times that he wasn't comfortable with them when they trailed him. 

"Must be nice," one boy said, looking dejectedly at Taekwoon, as if he were asking his permission to share. 

He ignored the boy, and jogged onto the field. The game was about to start. He was playing defensive. The cheers melted away as his only focus became the ball, weaving in and out of the players' legs. 

He was so close to the ball, ready to steal the ball at the very last second. Just one more step and he would be able to slip between their legs and take it as his own, just one more step and he could—  _BAM!_

Taekwoon felt a body collide with him, knocking him to the floor and crushing him under its weight. 

The ref's whistle blew, and Taekwoon found himself covered in dirt and grass. His forehead stung, where a rock had sliced just underneath his eyebrow. He was lucky his injuries weren't worse. 

The body was removed from him, and Taekwoon turned around, ready to confront whoever had knocked him down. But before he could even get to him, there was a boy by his side, screaming. 

"You did that on purpose! You ran into him intentionally!" the dark boy held the soccer player by his shirt, shaking him around. They ended up on the floor, limbs tangled as they pushed and shoved and rolled over on each other in what seemed like the most dramatic fight in the world. Several players already had their phones up, recording. 

When the coaches finally split them apart, the dark boy was being dragged away. No doubt that he would be banned from coming to any of the games from now on. 

As he was being escorted away, the boy turned around and yelled, "Jung Taekwoon!" 

His head snapped up, confused. They made eye contact. He had nice brown eyes and beautiful tanned skin, different from Taekwoon's small cat-like eyes and almost translucent skin. 

"My name's Cha Hakyeon! Remember that!" was the last thing he heard before security rushed him away, still frantically waving. 

* * *

 

_January 2015_

As a matter of fact, Taekwoon did  _not_ forget his name. And the next time they met, it was at the tennis courts. Hakyeon was on the Boys Varsity tennis team in their school. He was also a dancer, a singer, and a musical theater performer. It seemed as if he was everywhere and anywhere. 

"Jung Taekwoon!" came the first call. It was loud, a bit whiny, and definitely surprised. 

He turned around, facing the boy. His sweaty hair stuck to his forehead, and he was dressed in a god awful bright white tennis uniform, but in an odd way, Taekwoon didn't mind. He actually thought he looked quite nice, much nicer than he looked before, covered in dirt and scratches. 

"What are you doing here, Jung Taekwoon?" he asked. 

"Wonsik," Taekwoon said, feeling dumb. 

"You're looking for Kim Wonsik?" 

"Yes," 

"You're a bit laconic, aren't you?" 

Taekwoon didn't answer him, only glanced around to look for Wonsik, who often hung around the tennis courts as he waited for his boyfriend, Jaehwan.

"He's not here today. He skipped practice," Hakyeon said, head tilted. Without giving him time to reply, Hakyeon asked, "Do you remember my name?" 

Taekwoon stared at him, feeling naked and exposed under Hakyeon's soulful stare. Most of the time, he hated talking to people. Other than Wonsik and Jaehwan, there was really no one else he had a conversation (and calling what he had with Jaehwan a "conversation" was a stretch—what it really was was Jaehwan screaming at the top of his lungs and Taekwoon occasionally making vague noises of approval or disapproval). Sure, there was Lee Hongbin, a younger student who he sometimes tutored, but again, that was really just Hongbin talking and Taekwoon shaking or nodding his head. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he wasn't close with anyone but a select few. 

Hakyeon waited, brushing his bangs away. Taekwoon found himself stepping closer to the other boy, leaving only a few inches between them. 

"Cha Hakyeon," he said, finally. "Your name is Cha Hakyeon." 

* * *

 

_April 2015_

Taekwoon turned his head so he could look at Hakyeon, laying down next to him. 

Why am I here? he thought. 

"Did you know my favorite thing to do is sneak onto the tennis courts at night and watch the sky?"

Taekwoon didn't say anything. He knew he didn't have to. Often, if he let Hakyeon talk long enough, he would eventually answer his own questions, or talk himself quiet. 

"I think that the one thing artists can't perfect is the sky. You just can't capture the stars on canvas and oil. You can't recreate a sunset either. That's what makes me sad. Tonight, we might be the only ones in Korea who're looking up at the sky, taking in this once-in-a-lifetime view." Hakyeon gazed longingly up at the sky. "When I'm lonely or sad, I think the starlight comforts me. You know, they travel millions of kilometers just to shine down on us. Neat, right?" Sometimes, Taekwoon didn't know what to think about him. There were days where Hakyeon spoke nonsense, but occasionally, he spouted poetry. Some days Hakyeon was loud, and others, he wouldn't speak a word. 

Cha Hakyeon was, in ways, more mysterious than Taekwoon. 

Hakyeon turned his head, so they were facing each other, something unreadable twinkling in his eyes. He said, "Do you ever feel lonely, Taekwoon?"

* * *

 

_November 2016_

He watched Hakyeon's chest rise and fall in a slow, rhythmic pace. He reached out, thinking the other boy was asleep, and his hand hovered gently over Hakyeon's bangs. He thought about it for a second, then sighed, and moved his hand away. 

Hakyeon caught it, startling him. His eyes were still closed, but his fingers wrapped around his slim wrist. Without a word, Hakyeon placed it on his head. 

"Cha Hakyeon . . ." Taekwoon murmured, petting his soft hair. 

"Hmm," the older boy let out a vague sound of pleasure. 

"We can't stay here for long," Taekwoon said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. "The tennis courts close at ten." 

"Let's stay here," said Hakyeon. He rolled over so his head laid against Taekwoon's chest. 

"That's ridiculous," Taekwoon scoffed, but made no move to get up.

* * *

 

_June 2017_

Taekwoon waited on the tennis courts, fiddling with the zipper of his big parka. It was oversized, and he slightly resembled a blackberry as he waddled around. But he couldn't help it, the night was cold, and he was prone to sickness. 

Finally, he heard a familiar voice calling out to him, "Jung Taekwoon!" 

Relief filled his heart. He checked his watch. It was still only 11:57 p.m. 

"Why'd you call me out?" Hakyeon asked, impatiently. "I can't believe you woke me up. I have three tests tomorrow!" 

Taekwoon ignored him, watching the seconds on his watch tick by. 11:58. 

"Are you ignoring me?" Hakyeon waved a hand in front of Taekwoon's face. He frowned. "I'm going to leave if you—" 

"Shh!" Taekwoon finally responded. "It's not time yet!" 

"Time for what!" 

He wondered how he could be so dense. "Just wait! Can't you stay quiet for two minutes!" 

Hakyeon made a move to leave, but Taekwoon held tightly to his hand. "Sorry," he murmured, "Just one more minute, please." 

"Taekwoon-ah," Hakyeon whined. 

"Shh!" 

"Taekwoonie!" 

"Okay!" he smiled, "3 . . . 2 . . . 1!" He looked up at Hakyeon, revealing a shy smile. "Happy birthday!" he held out a present, and a muffin wrapped in a napkin.

Hakyeon was quiet for a while. Taekwoon waited expectantly, afraid he had done something wrong. He blinked once, then twice, and realized that Hakyeon was crying. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was sniffling. 

"Hakyeon? Hakyeon, why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?" 

The older boy suddenly wrapped his arm around his waist, underneath his parka. His face was buried in Taekwoon's chest, muffling little noises. Through the blubbering, he heard, "Thank you, Taekwoonie." 

After a temporary lapse in reaction, Taekwoon finally returned the hug, a hand buried in Hakyeon's hair, holding him tightly against him. "You're welcome, hyung." 

 

 

They lay side by side on the tennis courts, holding hands. Thinking. 

"Do you think these days will ever come again?" Hakyeon finally asked, eyes wide and full of wonder. 

Taekwoon breathed in the scent of grapefruit lotion, enjoying the warmth of Hakyeon's body against his. He thought for a second before finally saying, "Not the same days." 

"'Human memory is short, and time is long.'" Hakyeon recited, closing his eyes. "But I hope I remember tonight forever." 

* * *

 

_July 2017_

The day it happened, Hakyeon met him on the tennis courts. Taekwoon wasn't sure why he was there. He wasn't sure what he was trying to do. There was no realistic way anything good could come out of this situation. But that day, Taekwoon wanted to see his face. Just once more time. One last time. 

"Jung Taekwoon!" 

He exhaled, unaware that he was holding his breath. 

"Oh my God, what happened?" he was panting, probably from running to the courts. 

"Isn't it obvious?" he hated how hateful he sounded. 

"Are you okay?" Hakyeon reached out, but Taekwoon stepped back, wincing. 

"Do I _look_ okay?" 

Hakyeon's eyes widened. Taekwoon had never spoken to him that way. Gone was the shy, quiet boy he had known. What was left of Taekwoon was something mean, angry, and horrible. "Taekwoon?" 

"Please," he sounded tired. Helpless. "I don't even know why I'm here. I shouldn't have come." He got up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. 

"Jung Taekwoon," Hakyeon's voice was dangerously low. "If you leave—if you walk out of that gate, I-I'll never forgive you!" Taekwoon paused, as if he were waiting for more. Scared, desperate, and feeling suddenly a great wave of loneliness, Hakyeon called out again, "I'll never talk to you again, Jung Taekwoon!" 

Without another word, Taekwoon slammed the gate behind him, limping painfully away.

* * *

 

Taekwoon shuddered, remembering that unpleasant day. He glanced at Hakyeon— _he grew out his hair,_ was all that came to mind. 

Somehow, they had ended up in the tennis courts again. 

"Is your leg still messed up?" strain edged at Hakyeon's voice. 

"Yeah," Taekwoon said, watching Hakyeon lay down in the middle of the court. "Do you still play?" 

"No," he said shortly. "I didn't want to, after what happened." 

"Oh," he wasn't sure what to say. How could he tell Hakyeon how sorry he was? "I'm sorry. You were good." 

"No, I wasn't," Hakyeon shrugged. "I was great." 

"Yeah." 

Hakyeon closed his eyes, and Taekwoon awkwardly sat himself next to his body, unsure of how far away he should stay. 

"Are you happy now?" Hakyeon asked. "Pushing away everyone in your life, even though you can't change what happened? Does it make you feel better, being awful to everyone around you?" 

"No," Taekwoon said quietly. "I'm sorry." 

"I waited," Hakyeon said. 

"What?" 

"I waited. I hoped you would come back. I thought you'd come back." 

"Oh." 

_Oh._

Taekwoon heard him get up, shifting his backpack over his shoulders. His heart beat faster, his hands were sweaty. 

"You haven't changed at all, Taekwoon," Hakyeon sighed. "I know it hurts, and I know you loved soccer, but there are other things. Other  _people._ You don't have to be miserable on your own." When Taekwoon stared at him, unmoved, Hakyeon ran a hand through his hair. He looked older now, though it had only been a few months. "Don't stay out too late, Taekwoon. It's getting cold." 

He was almost out the gate when Taekwoon finally ran. He ran right into Hakyeon, hugging his back tightly, pressing their bodies together. "Wait," he said, his chin resting on the older boy's shoulder, lips pressed against his neck. 

"Taekwoon?" Soft, uncertain.

"Will you—will you stay here with me tonight?" he asked, his voice a whisper in the night. 

Hakyeon exhaled, melting into his arms. "Okay," he said, this time certain. "Okay."

 

 

"Hakyeon?" 

"Hmm?" 

"I think I might love you." 

"Me too," Hakyeon said. "I think I might be in love with you too." 

**Author's Note:**

> uhh i wrote this instead of doing homework so?? that happened. uhm yea. i love vixx.


End file.
